


Archangel in Exile

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Series: The Real World [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, Crack, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Episode: s05e19 Hammer of the Gods, Episode: s06e15 The French Mistake, Gabriel is a pain in the ass, Gabriel is too awesome to die, Gen, Humour, Meta, Misha Collins is a troll, Misha Collins is crazy-awesome, Pranks, Twitter, idek, the power of fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently <i>Supernatural</i> was real, which was presumably why Gabriel was bleeding out onto Richard’s floor.</p><p> <i>(In which the actors of Supernatural  find that reality is stranger and more disturbing than they previously believed, even counting Misha, and an injured archangel discovers that his universe is the subject of a TV show.)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *grin* So, I originally started posting this on LJ, but decided to post it here, too.
> 
> This is RPF, or Real Person fic. It contains fictional versions of real-life people. In this case, the actors in the TV show _Supernatural_. I've always loved reading fic where the characters end up in real life or the actors end up in the show, but most of it tends to be about Dean, Sam, and Cas. What I wanted was Gabriel fic, and there's hardly any of that. Also, having seen the episode _The French Mistake_ , I was disappointed by how lacking in awesomeness fictional!Misha is. Because as all the fans know, Misha is so made of awesome that if life were a novel, it wouldn't be published because Misha's appearances are like, 95% crack.
> 
> Where possible I have made references to real life events; brownie points to anyone who can pick which stuff is based on real life.
> 
> Finally, the twitter feeds read oldest->newest for readability. Enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter One: In which Richard is concerned and confused, Misha is annoying, and Jared and Jensen are skeptical._

  


* * *

  
   
 **Archangel** **in Exile**

**Chapter One**

* * *

  
    
Apparently _Supernatural_ was real, which was presumably why Gabriel was bleeding out onto Richard’s floor.

At least, Richard wasn’t 100% sold on the idea that the show was real and it was Gabriel on his floor, but the guy was like Richard’s long-lost twin, dressed in Gabriel’s typical green jacket + red flannel shirt combo and had what looked awfully like a sword-wound in his stomach, so it wasn’t like there was really any other readily-available explanation.

“ _Shit!_ ” Richard decided, and went for his phone.

Dialling 911 with one hand, he ran out to the hall cupboard for a clean towel he could use to put pressure on the wound.

Up close the guy was even more unnerving. Physically he looked just like Richard, although without the beginnings of a beard, but even unconscious his facial expression was different.

There was something sadder about his mouth and eyes, as though his face had become used to assuming an expression of unhappiness.

The 911 call got picked up at that point, and Richard concentrated on talking to the operator as he pressed the towel against Gabriel’s stomach.

His life had just gotten really weird.

* * *

  
   
“Misha? It’s Richard. You’re not going to believe this, but I just found _Gabriel the archangel_ on my kitchen floor.”

“You’re right,” Misha responded, after a moment’s thought. “I don’t.”

Richard had rung him on the home phone, so Misha reached for his cell.

**_[mishacollins:  @dicksp8jr_ ** _claims he found the archangel Gabriel on his kitchen floor. An attempted prank, or something more sinister? **]**_

Apparently Richard recognised Misha’s absent-minded silence, because he asked,

“Misha, you’re not tweeting this, are you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Misha replied, and hit ‘update.’

There was an annoyed huff of air on the other end of the line.

“I’m serious, Misha. I found him bleeding out from a stomach wound this afternoon. He looks just like me.”

“Did you take photos?”

“ _No,_ Misha. I rang 911 and right now I’m sitting in a hospital waiting for them to tell me how he is.”

 That gave Misha pause.

That kind of claim could be proven or disproven easily. Either Richard was in hospital, with his double, or he wasn’t.

If he was…

“Which hospital?” Misha asked, deciding not to make any judgements right now.

Richard told him.

“Okay. I’ll be right there.”

**_[mishacollins:_ ** _Am going to ascertain veracity of Richard’s claims right now. The Truth Is Out There. **]**_

* * *

  
   
Misha got there just as someone was telling Richard that his brother was in stable condition.

“Your brother?” Misha questioned. Richard stomped on his foot.

This was uncalled-for, but Misha endured it, because he was awesome like that.

Apparently Richard’s ‘brother’ was in a bad way, although he was currently ‘stable,’ whatever that meant exactly. The blade he had been stabbed with had perforated his intestines, which sounded unpleasant and painful, and the man had needed surgery.

Richard nodded through all of this, looking worried. As the supposed brother, he looked very convincing.

“Can we see him?” Richard finally asked.

Misha gave the doctor a heart-rending look, which nicely complemented Richard’s distressed and concerned one.

It seemed to work, because the doctor gave them both a reassuring smile.

“You can see him now, as long as he isn’t disturbed.”

Richard and Misha followed her to the indicated room.

The bed at the end of the room contained an unmoving figure.

Misha stared.

The man in the bed looked like a clean-shaven version of Richard, from the slightly wavy hair to the set of the eyes and mouth and the shape of the nose. Maybe the hair was a little blonder, but that was about all. The effect was eerie.

Richard approached the bed and stared down at him sadly.

He looked up again at the click of the camera on Misha’s phone.

“ _Misha!_ ”

Richard looked utterly exasperated and annoyed, but Misha was unrepentant.

It had been a fantastic image.

“Post that, and you’re going to regret it,” Richard warned him, with that edge that could almost have been playful, but wasn’t.

Misha shrugged, and grinned a little.

“So, we seem to have established that you have a doppelganger.”

“Yeah.”

Richard was back to staring at ‘Gabriel’ again. Misha couldn’t blame him. If he’d been in Richard’s position he would have been just as fascinated.

Although, to be honest, part of his contemplation would have involved the potential for pranks. It would be even better than having an identical twin, because if you’re a twin, people tended to know, which reduced the pranks’ efficacy.

“It’s a little creepy looking at two of you,” Misha observed.

Richard gave a shaky laugh.

“Yeah, I know.”

He was still staring at the guy in the bed.

“Come on,” Misha decided. “We’re going out to dinner. Your nerves clearly need it.”

Richard argued a bit, but his heart wasn’t in it, and he gave in soon enough under Misha’s determined assault.

He left the room with one last look at the unconscious mystery man.

Misha stayed behind for a moment to type.

**_[mishacollins:_ ** _Story partially confirmed; mysterious unconscious man is Richard’s doppelganger. Confirmation of identity yet to come. Stay tuned. **]**_

* * *

  
   
 ** _[majorcastielfan: @mishacollins_** _are you serious? **]**_

**_[davidA:  @mishacollins_ ** _That’s awesome, man. **]**_

**_[jarpad:  @mishacollins_ ** _u can’t be serious **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @jarpad_ ** _Why not? It’s true. **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @jarpad_ ** _I have a photo of him and Richard together, only Richard threatened me. I am open to bribes, though. **]**_

**_[jarpad:  @mishacollins_ ** _I offer three beers and a photo of Jensen in drag **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @jarpad_ ** _twitpic.com/72v3of I expect them on Monday. **]**_

**_[jarpad:  @mishacollins_ ** _Holy shit, it’s like someone cloned Richard!! **]**_

**_[jensenackles:  @mishacollins_ ** _Is this real? Does Richard have a twin we don’t know about? **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @jensenackles_ ** _The mystery deepens. **]**_

**_[rosefromperdition:  @mishacollins_ ** _GABRIEL IS REAL!!!! **]**_

**_[jarpad:  @mishacollins_ ** _why is he in a hospital bed? **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @jarpad_ ** _He was stabbed in the abdomen. **]**_

**_[jensenackles:  @mishacollins_ ** _Okay… that’s creepy. **]**_

**_[mishacollins:_ ** _New hashtag for the current discussion: **#richarddouble]**_

**_[commanderkeen1:  #richarddouble_ ** _guys it’s gotta b photoshopped nice work though **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @commanderkeen01_ ** _I swear to you this is genuine. **#richarddouble]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @commanderkeen01 #richarddouble_ ** _I even have video of Richard swearing at me and telling me to turn the phone off **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @commanderkeen01 #richarddouble_ ** _ tinyurl.com/richardswearsmisha **]** _

**_[jensenackles:  @mishacollins #richarddouble_ ** _This is unbelievable **]**_

**_[jarpad:  @mishacollins #richarddouble_ ** _we’re not convinced **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @jarpad_ ** _Fine. You can visit with me tomorrow. I suggest you bring flowers and candy. **]**_

**_[jensenackles:  @mishacollins_ ** _can he even eat candy? if he was stabbed? **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  @jensenackles_ ** _I have no idea. **]**_

* * *

  
   
Richard got to the hospital the next morning only to find that not only Misha, but Jared and Jensen had gotten there before him.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked in surprise, gaping at Jared and Jensen.

“Haven’t you seen Twitter?” Jared asked. “The hashtag ‘Richard double’ is trending right now.”

Richard glared at Misha.

Misha tried to look innocent, but that was like a fox trying not to look sly. It wasn’t convincing in the least.

“Tell me you didn’t post the photo.”

“I didn’t post the photo,” Misha told him, in a voice entirely free of inflection and without making eye contact.

“Ugh!”

Richard threw his hands in the air.

Jensen and Jared were grinning, although both looked curious.

“So,” Jensen drawled, “since we’re here… where is he?”

  
   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify:
> 
> Mishacollins = Misha Collins  
> jarpad = Jared Padalecki  
> jensenackles = Jensen Ackles
> 
> The rest of the tweeters are random people.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter Two: In which Misha and Jared say the wrong things, and Gabriel is injured and less than pleased to hear that his life is a TV show._   
> 

* * *

  
  **Archangel** **in Exile**

 **Chapter Two**  
 

* * *

  
 

  
The first things that Gabriel were aware of were voices, and pain.

He felt like he was drifting in a thick fog, snatches of spoken words flitting past him before he could grab onto them and decipher them.

Something wasn’t right.

_Wake up, Gabriel._

Gabriel tried to struggle back to consciousness, his heavy, painful body fighting him every step of the way, and that was _wrong, wrong, wrong._

Slowly the sounds he was hearing resolved into something intelligible, along with a strange clicking noise that Gabriel couldn’t quite place.

“I _swear_ , Misha, you take one more picture and I’ll shove that phone up your ass,” Gabriel’s voice snapped, which made no sense, because Gabriel hadn’t said anything.

It was enough to make him open his eyes, even though his eyelids felt like dead weights. What the heck was wrong with him?

At first, blurry glance, it looked like the Winchesters and Castiel were by Gabriel’s bedside, but there was something wrong  with that picture.

Sam and Dean were dressed completely differently and Dean’s hair was neatly combed instead of sort of spiked up, and Sam wore a relaxed, easy grin that was totally unlike him.

Then there was Castiel, who was holding a phone and wearing a sly smile and a t-shirt and jeans, which made him look like a completely different person.

The fact that there was a bearded version of Gabriel currently glaring at ‘Castiel’ just clinched it.

Gabriel wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

He tried to ask, ‘what the heck is going on here?’ but all that came out was a garbled groan.

Like this was some kind of signal, everyone’s heads turned towards him.

“He’s awake,” exclaimed the Sam look-alike.

“Excellent,” declared fake-Castiel. He instantly focused a laser-beam stare on Gabriel. “Do you have a name?”

“G’br’l,” Gabriel managed, feeling annoyed at his inexplicable inability to speak. It only occurred to him a second later that he'd just let his real name slip.

“As in the archangel?” not-Dean asked, looking interested and intelligent, which just went to prove that he wasn’t a Winchester.

Gabriel eyed him sharply, or at least as sharply as he could manage. He didn't know what was going on, or how he was injured, but he was vulnerable, and not-Dean was smarter than he liked.

“Guys, whether he _is_ Gabriel or not, he’s just woken from unconsciousness after major surgery,” Gabriel’s clone said dryly. “The dude might not actually _want_ to be questioned by rabid actors right now.”

“I’m not rabid,” said not-Sam. “I can’t swear about Misha, though. I don’t think he’s had his shots.”

“I missed them, it’s true,” Castiel’s double said gravely. “A seer warned me they could render me sane, and three hundred thousand minions would cry out in horror.”

_What the hell?_

“Ignore them, they’re nuts,” Beardy Gabriel told the archangel. “We’re all actors, by the way. I’m Richard, the one with the phone is Misha, the walking moose is Jared –”

“Hey,” Jared said amiably, with a bright, lazy grin.

“ – and the wholesome young man next to you is Jensen.”

“What he’s not telling you is that we all play characters on a TV show called _Supernatural_ , about two brothers who hunt demons,” Misha added calmly.

“And we couldn’t help but notice that you bear a certain resemblance to one of the characters,” Jared said easily.

They all stared at Gabriel expectantly. He tried to process what he'd just heard. It took longer than usual.

_TV… show?_

Gabriel’s life… was a _TV show?_

All of the ceiling lights suddenly rained sparks and went out, and a monitor to Gabriel’s left suddenly went crazy.

Gabriel tried to sit up, blood thumping through his veins and giving him energy he didn’t really have. The men in front of him went scrambling backwards, their eyes going wide.

“Shit,” said Jared, eyes comically large as more sparks fell from the light fixture.

Gabriel was halfway into a sitting position when a bolt of agony hit him in the stomach. He fell back with a cry.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Jensen said, surging forward.

Richard sprang forward as well.

“Well done, asshats,” he said angrily over his shoulder. “Look, you need to stay still,” he told Gabriel. “You were stabbed in the stomach, okay, I don’t know if you remember, but you needed surgery and you’re still recovering. I need you to stay calm and stay where you are. You’ll hurt yourself otherwise.”

As he spoke a nurse rushed into the room to check on the monitors, but Gabriel barely noticed under the sudden onslaught of memory.

_Lucifer._

Gabriel stared glassily, not really seeing what was in front of him.

“Misha,” Richard’s voice said dangerously, “if you don’t stop tweeting this shit I’m taking that off you and Jensen’s flushing it down the toilet.”

“Good idea,” approved Jensen.

“Maybe I’ll just put it away,” Misha conceded.

Gabriel found it hard to breathe past the leaden knot in his chest.

He’d known intellectually, on some level, that Lucifer was prepared to kill him, but the reality of it  - the fact that Lucifer _had killed him_ – was now hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Gabriel hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. Apparently there was no such thing as being prepared for your big brother to murder you.

He opened eyes he didn’t remember closing to see the actors watching him.

Jensen looked gravely concerned, and Jared sympathetic.

Misha’s eyes were filled with such a depth of understanding that Gabriel was taken aback, but the moment he made eye contact the expression vanished, replaced instantly with a coolly speculative stare.

Richard just looked at Gabriel with warm empathy.

Gabriel felt suddenly overwhelmed and _angry_ that these strangers should be here, knowing all about his life and looking like people he knew.

Richard apparently recognised what Gabriel was feeling, because he glanced at the others.

“Guys, maybe you should give him some space.”

His words were backed up with an eloquent stare, and the others all left the room, leaving Gabriel alone with Richard.

“Sorry about Misha,” Richard said, a little warily. “He’s got this persona…”

“Y’n’wha’m’feelin’,” Gabriel accused almost unintelligibly.

Richard raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve been playing you on and off for years,” he told Gabriel. “I know your body language inside-out by now.”

Gabriel glared.

“You should go back to sleep,” Richard said. “Seriously, it’ll help you heal. We can talk when you’re feeling better.”

Gabriel didn’t really want to go back to sleep, but he _did_ feel exhausted, and it wasn’t like he could talk anyway.

He shut his eyes grudgingly, and was out like a light almost immediately.

* * *

  
   
Once he was sure that Gabriel was asleep, Richard left the room.

He couldn’t believe that Misha and Jared had decided to try and explain things to Gabriel _already_ – how did they _think_ the archangel was going to react?

He found the other three waiting for him in the hallway, and cocked a stern eyebrow at them.

Jared looked abashed, but Misha just leaned back against the wall and looked contemplative.

“So, he’s gone back to sleep,” Richard told them. “But I expect that next time he wakes up he’s going to want some explanations, and maybe leave a smoking crater in place of civilisation, I don’t know.”

“How can this even be real, Richard?” Jensen asked seriously. “I mean, I know it is – there’s no other explanation, and the lights and the wing shadows were as convincing as you could get – but how is it _possible?_ He’s a TV character. It seems fantastic.”

He stared at Richard earnestly, like Richard might actually have more of a clue than he did.

Richard shrugged.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

“I’m more concerned about the fact that, logically, his appearance means that _everything_ in _Supernatural_ is real,” Misha put in. “From the demons and monsters to Lucifer. Not to mention the season we’re in the middle of filming.”

Silence fell as the others thought about the conflict in Heaven that until now had simply been an interesting plot arc.

Seen through the lens of reality, rather than fiction, it was rather terrifying.

“Wow, that’s uncomfortable to think about,” Jared agreed. “But I think we’ve got something more important to deal with.”

“Yeah?” Richard looked an inquiry.

“Like the fact that we have an archangel in there,” Jared clarified. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel for him – I mean, we all know his backstory. But, y’all, you have to realise this leaves us with a problem. If he’s powered-up, who knows what he’s going to do. And if he isn’t, what are we going to do with a guy who has no legal identity, no money, no possessions, and nowhere to go?”

Richard had thought of all of this already, and considering that the guy looked like his long-lost twin, he was pretty sure he knew who was going to end up responsible for the angel.

And besides, on top of that he had a weird feeling of connection towards Gabriel, which meant he couldn’t have just made Gabriel someone else’s problem even if he’d wanted to. Which he didn’t, because he wasn’t a jerk.

“Tell me about it,” Richard sighed. “A confused, angry, emotionally-volatile angel with a worrying sense of humour, and I get to babysit him.”

“I don’t know,” said Misha. “I think it could be fun.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter Three: In which Richard and Gabriel have a chat, and the power of Twitter is harnessed for good._

  
**Chapter Three**   


* * *

  
  

**_[mishacollins:  #richarddouble_ ** _The theory that Richard’s double is Gabriel has been confirmed. The implications are disturbing. **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  #richarddouble_ ** _Although the chaotic potential is excellent indeed. **]**_

**_[mishacollins:  #richarddouble_ ** _Suggest new hashtag of **#gabrielisreal**  given his newly-confirmed status. **]**_

**_[mishacollins:_ ** _Gabriel is awake and not pleased that his life is a TV show. All the lights sparked and went out. **#gabrielisreal]**_

_**[mishacollins:** Livelihood of phone threatened will twit again soon. _ **_#gabrielisreal]_ **

* * *

  
   
Richard returned to visit Gabriel again on Monday.

Jared and Jensen and Misha all had filming that day, so he went alone. It was probably just as well, considering how things had gone last time.

On the way in he stopped to talk to the nurse. To the surprise of all the staff, Gabriel seemed to be healing at an unprecedented rate.

When Richard walked in Gabriel’s eyes were glued to the small television set mounted to the ceiling.

Richard couldn’t help a small laugh as he realised that the archangel was watching _Grey’s Anatomy_ , the show that inspired _Dr Sexy, M.D._ in Supernatural.

Gabriel’s eyes flicked to him instantly, and the TV turned off by itself.

“Hey there,” said Richard. “You’re looking a lot better.”

Gabriel eyed him, almost frowningly, like he was trying to figure Richard out.

“ _Archangel_. I heal fast,” he replied. “Actually, normally I heal instantaneously, but my Grace is pretty damn diminished right now.” He gave Richard an almost hawk-like stare. “I seem to remember you promising me a talk.”

Richard swallowed, but moved to sit in one of the chairs by the bed.

Gabriel’s eyes were indefinably alien, holding a weight and depth that was indisputably _other_. Right now they were entirely amber, without so much as a fleck of green.

“Yeah. What exactly do you want to know?”

“What I want to _know_ – ” Gabriel’s voice rose and sharpened “– is _why_ exactly I am in a world where my reality is a _TV show_ , and _how_.”

Richard gave a helpless shrug.

“Your guess is as good as mine on that one. Actually, you know, it’s probably better. Until you showed up bleeding all over my kitchen I thought it was completely fictional.”

Gabriel sent Richard a snide, glowering look for the reminder of his condition.

“Great. It figures that all I’ve got are a bunch of ignorant mooks who work as, what helpful career was it again? Oh yeah. _Actors_.”

The last word was practically flung at Richard in scathing frustration.

“I’m afraid so, yeah,” Richard admitted, unruffled by the insult.

Gabriel glared at him.

“Exactly how badly off are you?” Richard asked. “I mean, if you’d normally be healed by now, what does that say for your Grace?”

Gabriel just glared some more. Richard didn’t feel very safe, but he knew Gabriel’s character pretty well, and he didn’t _think_ Gabriel would do anything to him. Gabriel’s M.O. was more biting words than harmful actions when he was angry, unless someone had actually done something to deserve punishment. And Richard was pretty sure he was in the clear on that one.

“…fine,” Gabriel finally said petulantly, when Richard simply watched him with patient eyes. “My Grace is really low, okay? I can about manage turning the TV on and off, but that’s it. I’m pretty close to powerless right now.”

Gabriel’s lips pressed together in something like resentment at the admission.

“I thought as much. Look, right now I’ve got the hospital staff thinking you’re my brother – didn’t think telling them you were an archangel of the Lord was going to go down well.”

Without thinking Richard said the last part sardonically, and did a little challenging thing with one eyebrow. Both of Gabriel’s eyebrows slowly rose, and he looked surprised.

Belatedly Richard realised that his tone and the lift of the eyebrow were things he had used in his portrayal of the archangel, and Gabriel probably recognised the mannerisms as his own.

He hurried on to cover his own sudden feeling of awkwardness.

“I realise this has got to be pretty uncomfortable for you, but you’re not on your own here. We might be 'ignorant mooks',” another quirk of the eyebrow, “but we’ll help you however we can.”

Gabriel directed a searching look at him.

“Oh yeah?” Gabriel demanded, his eyes hard and bright. “And what about my hospital bill, hmm? Last I checked, those don’t come cheap.”

“That’s true,” Richard sighed. “But we’ve got Misha on it right now.”

“Right.” This time it was Gabriel raising a sceptical eyebrow. “And what miracles can _he_ work?”

Richard chuckled in spite of himself.

“Oh, you’d be surprised. He’s got a lot of fan power. I think some of them actually worship him as a god.”

Gabriel gave him a flat look.

“You’re serious.”

“Well, kind of.” Richard chuckled again. “I mean, _I_ once arranged for Misha to be given three hundred pairs of pumpkin-coloured underwear using the power of fandom, and I have _nothing_ on Misha’s fanbase. If he told them all to mobilise outside the White house and help him stage a coup, he’d probably end up with a small army.”

Gabriel was still giving Richard that flat, disbelieving look.

“Anyway, we’ll sort something out, I’m convinced of that. I’m more worried about your non-physical condition, if you catch my meaning.” He stared at Gabriel.

Gabriel stared back.

“You have some balls.”

Richard grinned.

“Well, someone has to ask the question. Besides, would you prefer I didn’t care? You might be mad that we all kind of know you, but on the other hand, it mean’s we’re emotionally invested in your wellbeing.” He shrugged a little. “So, it’s got its pros and cons.”

Gabriel looked at Richard like the idea was completely foreign.

“Um, I should probably tell you, Misha’s posted about you all over Twitter,” Richard added, a little reluctantly. “And he posted some photos, like one of me standing next to you while you were unconscious. So, sorry about that. He’s a sneaky bastard with a camera and an internet connection.“

Gabriel’s forehead furrowed.

“Yesterday, with the phone, that’s what he was doing?”

“Yeah.” Richard hoped a horrible fate didn’t await Misha as a result of this.

“Hmm.” To Richard’s relief, Gabriel seemed to be thoughtful rather than angry.

After a moment Gabriel gave Richard another searching look.

“You seem pretty calm about this whole situation,” he suggested bluntly.

Richard allowed his eyebrows to slowly rise.

“I’m an actor,” he said, very dryly.

Gabriel’s eyes unexpectedly filled with amusement, and he snickered.

“True enough, I guess. Okay, kiddo, I’ve interrogated you enough, I think. Tell me about this world and the differences between it and mine.”  


* * *

  
**_[mishacollins:  #gabrielisreal_ ** _Issue of Gabriel’s hospital bill rapidly becoming urgent. Request help from minions. **]**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter Four: In which Gabriel is brought gifts, discovers that Misha used to be a White House intern, and asks the actors an important question._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for how long this has taken. Sorry?

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Part Four **

 

Mid-way through the next afternoon, Gabriel was reading a trashy magazine he’d talked Richard into buying for him the day before. He recognised some of the celebrities, sure, but a lot of them were completely unfamiliar to him.

From what Richard said, there were a lot of similarities between their two universes, but also a lot of differences. The biggest one, as far as he could tell, was that there was no magic and no supernatural elements in this world – as far as anyone knew, anyway, which Richard had admitted didn’t necessarily mean much, considering that most people back in Gabriel’s reality didn’t believe in magic, either. 

Gabriel thought that Richard was probably right, though. Gabriel was used to a certain level of ambient magic being present in the air, hanging around inert, waiting to be put to use, but here in Bizarro World? There was… nothing. Oh, there was _potential_ for magic – the concept of magic didn’t violate the laws of physics, this universe wasn’t _that_ rigid – but Gabriel couldn’t sense _actual_ magic anywhere. Or anything else supernatural; Gabriel was the only supernatural thing for miles. It was reassuring, in that it meant there probably wasn’t anything bigger and nastier about to get the drop on him in his weakened state, but it was also deeply unnerving.

Gabriel had listened out for the voices of his brothers for the first time in a long time, wondering how far the absence of the supernatural went, and had heard nothing but silence. 

He felt lonely and alone and vulnerable. It was in no way a pleasant combination. He just hoped he recovered his Grace quickly, so that he’d feel safer, at least. He felt too exposed.

He looked up in surprise and wariness as someone walked into the room, only to relax slightly as he saw that it was the younger Winchester’s doppelganger. And damn, it said something about Gabriel’s frame of mind that seeing someone who looked like a _Winchester_ made him less uneasy.

“Hey,” Jared greeted him. He was carrying a couple of enormous canvas tote bags. “People keep sending crap for you to the set. Got asked to bring some of it over here.”

“Thanks,” Gabriel said, because he wasn’t a _total_ dick. Besides, if he was going to have to depend on these people for help, it was probably best not to piss them off too much.

He wanted to ask if Jared had any idea what was going on in his world, but wasn’t sure if that was such a good idea. Richard had said gently, but quite firmly, that Gabriel shouldn’t get caught up on the latest episodes – and _episodes_ : boy, did that grate on him, even if it wasn’t anyone’s fault – until he was more recovered, and Gabriel suspected that whatever was going down back home had to be pretty bad.

So, instead of asking about it, Gabriel looked curiously at the bags that Jared had just dumped on the floor near his bed.

“What kind of crap?”

“Hey, how you doing, Gabriel?” Richard asked, appearing in the doorway. He looked mildly surprised to see Jared. “Oh, hi, man. I thought you were gonna come by later with Jensen and Misha.”

“Nah,” Jared shrugged. “Figured I’d come early. Didn’t have anything else to do. Misha and Jensen’ll be arriving later.”

“So, you all work together,” Gabriel began. 

“Except me. I’m out, as far as we know,” Richard interrupted to clarify.

“…and live in each others pockets,” Gabriel continued. “Do you four do everything together?” he asked suspiciously, only half-joking.

“Pretty much,” said Jared. “We got used to it during the convention runs.”

“And then my lease ran out,” Richard added, “and these guys convinced me to move down here and get an apartment nearby.”

“Uh-huh.” It seemed a bit unusual to Gabriel, but who was he to judge?

Okay, he was _totally_ one to judge. Angel of Judgement, and all. But there was no reason to be judgemental about this.

“What’s all this stuff?” Richard nodded at the bags on the floor.

“Stuff people keep sending to the set for Gabriel,” Jared explained patiently. “You gotta admit, it’s impressive how many people seem to just straight-out believe it’s him.”

“Or just want to play along,” Richard pointed out. “Hard to tell, with that crowd.”

“Okay, you’re making me curious,” Gabriel interrupted, because patience wasn’t one of his virtues. “What’s in the bags?”

“Uh, candy, mostly,” said Jared. Gabriel perked up slightly in spite of himself. Richard noticed.

“Not until you’re better,” the man advised, with a look of humour. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“There was some other stuff, too, though,” Jared added. “You want me to go through it for you?”

“Sure.” It wasn’t like there was anything else even vaguely interesting around. “Let’s take a look.”

As Jared said, the bags turned out to be mostly full of candy, but there was other stuff in there too: things like anti-possession temporary tattoos, fan mail, and back-issues of the _Weekly World News_.

“That isn’t even in print anymore,” Richard said, sounding bemused as Jared handed Gabriel a couple of issues. “Do you think they were regular readers?”

Jared shrugged.

“Or maybe bought it on eBay. Fans, remember.”

“True,” Richard agreed. 

“Devoted fans, then?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. He was still sceptical that some of them worshipped Misha as a god.

“You have _no_ idea.”

“Hi guys,” Misha chirped, announcing his arrival.

“Afternoon,” said Jensen, walking in right behind him. Someone had drawn a giant fake moustache above his upper lip.

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

Jared couldn’t help it, he gave what emerged as a kind of manly giggle, and Gabriel burst out laughing.

“Let me guess,” said Richard, amused. “You left the door unlocked while you had an afternoon nap in your trailer, didn’t you?”

Jensen’s expression shifted to a sort of resigned alarm. He looked at Gabriel.

“All right. What’s he done?”

“He’s given you a nice resemblance to Freddie Mercury, that’s what he’s done,” Gabriel explained helpfully, smiling in mirth.

“Dammit, Misha.” Jensen turned to his co-star accusingly. “Tell me it’ll at least wash off.”

“It’s fine, I used water-based ink,” Misha said grinning.

“You bastard,” Jensen grumbled, trying to see if he could catch his reflection in the window, but the light was too bright.

“Here,” Misha said, handing something to Gabriel. “I asked myself, ‘what does an archangel want?’ I decided I had no idea, so I’m giving you something I had lying around.”

Gabriel looked at it.

“You had a White House security pass _lying around?_ ” he asked, looking back at Misha and raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, he has, uh, he has a mobile made out of about thirty of those,” Jensen explained. 

“It’s a conversation piece,” Misha said sagely.

“You have a – thirty security passes? Really?”

“I was an intern,” Misha said, like it explained everything. “I thought they were cool.”

Richard and Jared were just smiling at the conversation.

“Isn’t stealing security passes from the White House a federal offense?” Gabriel asked curiously.

“It’s not like anyone said that at the time,” replied Misha. “If they’d said, _‘don’t take the security passes home, unless you want a long prison sentence,’_ right from the beginning, I might have had second thoughts. And if they really cared that much, it shouldn’t have been so easy for me to just not give my pass back at the end of the day. So really, I was doing them a favour, pointing out the holes in their security.”

The others were all snickering at Misha’s reasoning at this point.

“You guys really are nuts, aren’t you?” As a Trickster, Gabriel kind of had to admire Misha’s audacity.

“Maybe,” Jensen chuckled.

“But mostly Misha,” Jared added.

“Riiight,” Gabriel drawled, which set the lot of them laughing.

Watching them, Gabriel didn’t want to break the light-hearted mood. He liked these guys, mad actors or not, and their easy camaraderie made him ache in ways he preferred to ignore.

But the cheerful atmosphere couldn’t go on forever, and Gabriel had to ask, especially considering the rate he was healing.

“So.” He drew the word out, watching them all carefully. “Hate to kill the mood, boys, but I’ve got a question for you: what, exactly, is going to happen to me?”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter Five: in which a recovering Gabriel moves in with Richard, is not an amiable invalid, and Richard might be considering strangling an archangel._

** Archangel ** ** In Exile **  
** Chapter Five **

The others exchanged glances. Somehow this ended with everyone staring expectantly at Richard.

Swallowing his irritation at automatically being nominated to explain, Richard sat in the chair near Gabriel’s bed.

“Well, Misha’s set up a fundraising thing to pay your hospital bills,” he began, “so you don’t need to worry about that, at least; we’re taking care of it. Although we did promise to put a video up on Youtube with you in it, sorry – some people needed an incentive to donate, and we figured, well, these guys are paying your bills for you, so they deserve to get something back, right? And one Youtube video doesn’t seem like much to ask.” 

He paused to gauge Gabriel’s reaction, but the archangel looked inscrutable. 

“When you’re feeling better, of course,” Richard added. “In the meantime, I don’t know how long you’re going to need to stay in hospital, but… we figured you could move into my place when they kick you out, since you’re going to need somewhere to stay.” He gave a shrug. “We can wrangle it from there, but that’s the basic plan.”

There was a long silence as everyone watched Gabriel.

“Okay then,” Gabriel said at last. “I guess that works.”

Richard tried not to feel relieved at the easy acquiescence, because even if Gabriel had decided not to kick up a fuss right now, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do so later. Besides, for all he wasn’t arguing with it, Gabriel didn’t exactly sound enthusiastic about the idea. 

Richard just hoped that living with Gabriel wasn’t as much of a pain in the ass as he suspected it might turn out to be. The angel probably wasn’t used to being injured, not to mention it was likely he was still secretly freaking out over everything that had happened to him. And Richard was pretty sure that a troubled Gabriel liked to generate trouble of his own.

“So,” said Gabriel. “You guys play poker? Because I’m going to get bored sitting around doing nothing real fast.”

Everyone looked at Misha.

“I love how you all just assume that I have a pack of cards on me,” Misha said. Everyone waited. “Okay, fine.” Misha gave in, and pulled a deck of playing cards out of his jacket. “Be careful with these.”

“Is that Batman?” Jensen asked, peering at the cards with interest.

“Yes. They’re limited edition. I will repay any damage done to them in blood.”

“Noted.”

* * *

Gabriel was released a little over a week later.

Just like Richard had dreaded, it turned out that when it came to being an agreeable and easy-to-care for invalid, Gabriel was fucking _balls._

He got bored easily. He complained about how he hurt, and angels weren’t supposed to hurt. He complained about the state of his Grace. He offered unwanted critiques of Richard’s taste in household décor (which, coming from a guy with Gabriel’s kitschy taste in interior decorating, was doubly annoying). He yelled for Richard _all the time_ , to help him move, or fetch him food or water, or to answer intrusive personal questions. He sulked when Richard wouldn’t let him drink booze. He managed to finger-snap the sound-system to play loud house music at three in the morning. He talked Richard’s ear off, and flicked rubber bands at him (Richard didn’t even know where he’d _found_ the damn things), and was bored enough to write stuff on the bathroom mirror in toothpaste when Richard left him alone in there for two seconds.

The worst part was that the entire time, Gabriel watched Richard out of the corners of his eyes, like he was waiting for Richard to get fed up and throw Gabriel out on his ass.

The only time Richard got any peace was when he sat Gabriel down in front of the TV with some _Boston Legal_ and _Whose Line Is It Anyway_ DVD box sets. While Gabriel was occupied with watching them, Richard went upstairs and called Misha.

“Misha, I need you to pull a Castiel and save me from perdition, or else I’m going to strangle an archangel,” Richard said desperately. “I mean it, this guy is the patient from hell. I’m terrified of what he’s going to come up with next, and I just want to clock him one. Help. _Please._ ”

Misha chuckled on the other end of the line.

“Jared and Jensen are just finishing up their last scene for the day. If you’d like, we can be there in about an hour with some takeout.”

“Oh _man,_ you are the best friend a dude could have, Collins,” Richard said gratefully. 

“What’s the most interesting thing he’s done so far?” Misha wanted to know, sounding mischievous.

“I think it’s a toss-up between playing the stereo at three o’clock this morning, and writing his name in toothpaste on the bathroom mirror like he was eight years old,” Richard sighed.

He heard Misha burst out laughing.

“Yeah, it’s hilarious, but he’s driving me crazy. Seriously, if you can stop by with takeout, I will love you forever. I think he’s doing it on purpose, to see if I’m going to kick him out or not, and while I get it, considering his brothers…”

“He’s driving you crazy.” Misha repeated Richard’s earlier words back to him, sounding amused. “It’s fine. Dealing with archangels with the maturity of an eight year old sounds like a fantastic way to spend my evening.”

Richard laughed a little, knowing that Misha was probably more-or-less sincere.

“Thanks. I’ll see you in an hour or so, I guess. I’d better go check he hasn’t gone and started a fire while I was on the phone, or something.”

“Have fun babysitting,” Misha responded cheerfully, and hung up.

“Asshole,” Richard muttered, not really meaning it, and went back downstairs, hoping that Gabriel hadn’t invented some new way of sending him nuts.

Why had he volunteered for this, again?

He walked into the living room, to check that Gabriel wasn’t up to something. The archangel didn’t notice his presence, and Richard saw that instead of watching TV, Gabriel was staring into space, his expression unguarded, looking pensive and utterly miserable.

Right. That was why.

“Hey,” he told Gabriel, and the desolate expression was instantly wiped from Gabriel’s face, replaced by an unimpressed eyebrow. “Misha and Jared and Jensen are coming by later with takeout, so I thought I’d give you a head’s up.”

“Please, like I care,” said Gabriel. 

Richard shook his head, and was profoundly grateful that Gabriel didn’t really have any powers right now. He had more fellow-feeling for the Winchesters with every extra moment he spent with Gabriel acting like a giant dick.

“Whatever, man. Enjoy your pity-party. I was just letting you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's interested, there is a funny vid of Richard Speight Jr answering the question, has he ever been arrested? at this URL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSu9LmtBhUE


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter Six: in which Misha, Jensen and Jared bring over some takeout for dinner._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but jeez, I had so much trouble with it! Apparently it's been too long since I've really dealt with Gabriel as a character. Let me know if he sounds OOC, or anything, 'kay guys? Writing this was an effort.

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Part Six **

Misha, Jensen and Jared arrived later that evening with takeout, as promised.

“Oh, thank God,” Richard said as he opened the door. “I don’t know how much more I can take, seriously.”

“Yeah, you look pretty stressed,” said Jared. “Um, Misha said something about toothpaste on the bathroom mirror?”

Jensen snorted, and Jared wasn’t even bothering to hide his grin.

“Yeah, whatever, laugh it up.” Richard rolled his eyes. “Just get in here and be a distraction before he tries something else.”

The others followed Richard inside. Gabriel was still seated in front of the TV, and he raised a casual eyebrow as Misha, Jared and Jensen appeared, but Gabriel saw the subtle brightening of his expression.

“You boys bring takeout?”

“Chinese,” said Misha, holding up one of the bags. “Apparently you’ve been driving Richard crazy. Congratulations.”

“Did you really write your name in toothpaste on the bathroom mirror?” Jensen asked, grinning. “Please tell me you did. Because I can just imagine Richard’s face, man.”

Gabriel smirked.

“Oh, I can be _way_ more annoying than that, trust me.”

“Great,” Richard muttered. “That was exactly what I needed to hear.”

The food was divided up amongst the five of them, and the four actors chatted as they ate. Gabriel didn’t really join in the conversation, but that wasn’t surprising; most of what they were talking about was reasonably personal, which made it hard for Gabriel to contribute much. The conversation soon turned back to Gabriel, though.

“I guess it must be pretty boring for you, being stuck here,” Jared commented.

“Are you kidding me?” Gabriel asked. “You think Richard’s going crazy? He’s got nothing on how I’m feeling. I’m an archangel. Being stuck like this is the _worst_.”

“And I guess you’re not healing like you should be, huh,” Jensen said sympathetically. “Angels normally heal instantaneously, right?”

“Something like that,” Gabriel agreed guardedly. There was a moment’s awkward silence as no one was sure how to respond to that.

“So, uh, I hate to bring up the elephant in the room, but: Gabriel,” Misha announced. Gabriel opened his mouth, probably to make a comment about elephants, but Misha continued talking before he could speak. “Exactly how long do you think it’s going to take you to be back to full power?”

There was a long, tense moment, and everyone waited to see if Gabriel was going to explode.

But after a long silence, Gabriel just sighed.

“Honestly? I should be back to at least half-power by now. Problem is, as long as I’m stuck here, I’m completely cut off from Heaven in every way, which means that the time it takes to recharge my batteries has slowed exponentially.”

“So, what does that mean for you?” Jared asked in concern.

Gabriel sighed.

“It means, bucko, that it could be as long as two or three _years_ before I get my phenomenal cosmic powers back. Might not be, I could be lucky, but worse case-scenario, that’s the time-frame we’re looking at.”

“ _Years?_ ” Richard repeated in horror. He liked Gabriel, but the idea of living with him that long was enough to make him understand why some people killed each other.

Gabriel gave a wry sneer, his eyes shuttering, correctly interpreting Richard’s reaction.

“I know, right? It’s a total drag.”

Richard ran a distracted hand through his hair.

“Shit. Shit. There’s no way I can keep pretending you’re my brother or something, not for that long. And you don’t have ID, social security, money – hell, you don’t even have a high school GED or basic work experience.”

Gabriel’s face bloomed with surprise, as though he had expected Richard to say something about refusing to look after him for that long, or something. Richard raised a sardonic eyebrow at him.

“What, did you think I was going to throw you out on the street for taking too long? Please, Misha would sell my kidneys on the black market for revenge if I tried.”

“You know me so well,” Misha quipped.

Jensen patted Gabriel’s shoulder kindly.

“Look, I realise you’re not used to being able to rely on people, but we do care about you, you know.”

“Plus, it’s pretty funny watching you drive Richard up the wall,” added Jared.

“Oh thanks, Padalecki, you’re a real pal,” Richard sniped.

Gabriel managed a smirk at that. 

“Well, I _am_ the Trickster,” he said, but the smirk soon faded. “Still, what am I supposed to _do?_ Just sit here every day watching TV until I’m healed? Really? Then what?”

“That’s what most people do,” Richard agreed mildly, eyebrows raised. 

“Listen, this might be a surprise to you, but I do _not_ deal with boredom well, okay?” Gabriel scowled. “I have the attention span of like a wasp, or something.”

“Strangely enough, that doesn’t surprise me at all,” said Richard dryly. “Does that surprise anyone? Anyone at all surprised?” He raised his eyebrows sarcastically.

“I guess you’re just going to have to learn to deal with it, dude,” Jared shrugged. “I mean, boredom is part of life. For us, anyway.”

Gabriel frowned.

“Can we just – eat our food and not argue?” Richard asked wearily. “I mean, I’m all for a philosophical discussion of the innate boredom in being human, but let me remind you that I was woken up this morning at _three a.m._ by _someone_ playing C+C Music Factory at full volume, and then spent today with that someone being as annoying as he possibly could. I’m not really in the mood, guys.” 

Gabriel’s eyes gleamed with sudden mischief. The others eyed him warily.

“You really think that was me being as annoying as I possibly could? Because I hate to break it to you, but that was about a two on the Annoying Scale. If you really want me to make an effort–”

“God, no,” said Richard hastily. “I believe you. Spare me.”

Gabriel looked smug.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which the promised youtube video is filmed, and Gabriel discovers what's going on back home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... we're starting to get closer to the end, guys. FYI. There are... 4-5 chapters to go. Then that's it.
> 
> I'm trying to get this all written now, because apparently, now I've moved on from Supernatural, my ability to write Gabester is going, too. So, I want to try and get this finished while I still can. Any feedback on how I'm doing would be really welcome!

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Chapter Seven **

Richard would have liked to have been able to say that Gabriel got less annoying as time passed. Unfortunately, that wasn’t exactly the case. Gabriel was still effectively powerless, and his helplessness was clearly chafing at the archangel. 

Gabriel responded to this by being, unsurprisingly, as annoying and inappropriately cheerful as possible. It drove Richard nuts, but at the same time he soon found himself getting used to Gabriel’s antics.

As soon as Gabriel was healed enough to do things, though, Richard, Misha and the others congregated in Richard’s lounge room to film the youtube video that had been promised to the fans who had paid for Gabriel’s hospital care.

It was Misha who was doing the filming; Gabriel and Richard were seated side by side on the couch, with Jensen leaning on the back of the couch and Jared perched on one of the arms. 

Misha turned the video camera so it was pointed at his face, and turned it on.

“Hey, I’m Misha,” he told the camera. “But I’m pretty sure that if you’re watching this, you know who I am. So, uh, a little while ago a bunch of you guys paid for the archangel Gabriel’s hospital care, and we promised that in return, we’d film a video with him once he was recovered. Well, he’s more or less recovered now, enough for this at least, so… here you go.”

He swung the camera to point at the couch.

“Hi,” said Richard. “I’m Richard Speight Jr, and I play the archangel Gabriel on the TV show _Supernatural_.” Gabriel himself was munching on a candy bar. “Except as it turns out, Gabriel is real, and now in our reality, as I found out when he bled all over my kitchen floor.”

Gabriel swallowed a mouthful of candy bar and glared at him indignantly.

“Excuse me, but as the guy who was _stabbed in the stomach_ – thanks, Lucifer – I think I have more cause to complain about bleeding all over your kitchen floor than you do.”

“Extremely real,” Richard added ruefully. “Also, he complains kind of a lot.”

“Oh please, I’m not complaining anywhere near as much as I could be. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be stuck here practically Graceless?”

“At this point, I’m figuring we all do,” said Jensen. 

“You’ve only mentioned it constantly,” Jared added cheerfully.

“Screw you Padalecki,” Gabriel huffed. He glanced back at the camera. “Also, not that I mind not being hunted by my brothers while I’m like this, but your universe? No angels. Zip. Nada. It’s completely silent out there. Compleeeeetely empty of angel radio. Your reality is weird, people.” He shrugged, and sat forward a little. “But anyway, I’m told you guys are the reason I got fixed up in the hospital, so I wanted to say thanks for that, and also all the candy and presents you guys keep sending me. I got some great ideas from the _Weekly World News_ back issues, and as soon my Grace recovers, I’ll get right on that.”

“Because that’s exactly what the world needs,” said Richard sardonically.

“If you have any suggestions for people Gabriel should target, I’m making a list,” said Misha.

“ _Misha!_ ”

“Dude, that’s not funny,” Jensen said, sending Gabriel a worried look.

“Who said I was kidding? It’s about three pages long already.”

“I knew I liked you,” Gabriel told Misha. “Although it’s going to take a while before I can do anything about it.”

“Okay, I think we should end the video there,” Richard interrupted. He glanced at the camera. “And everyone ignore Misha, Gabriel doesn’t need any more encouragement.”

Misha turned off the video camera.

“Fine, ruin my fun. Killjoy,” Gabriel sneered, and slumped back on the couch. He winced slightly as the movement jarred his injury.

“You think that went okay?” Jared asked.

Richard shrugged. 

“Seemed alright to me. Should be entertaining, anyway.”

“Then I’ll post it online,” said Misha. “I’ll see you guys later.”

* * *

Richard returned home after going out to get some grocery shopping done to find that the house was suspiciously quiet.

“Gabriel?” he called out. “I’m home. Where are you?”

There was no response. Frowning, Richard went looking for the archangel. He found him in the lounge, sitting on the couch, with Richard’s laptop sitting in his lap.

Gabriel’s expression was terrifyingly blank, and on the laptop screen Richard could see the _Supernatural_ Wiki logo.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. If there was anything that was well and truly going to set the angel off, it was probably on that website.

Richard moved forward cautiously, and saw that the web page was for the most recently-screened _Supernatural_ episode, revolving around Raphael trying to restart the apocalypse.

“I see you decided to catch up on what you missed,” Richard ventured.

It was like Richard hadn’t said a word. Gabriel continued to sit there, staring into the space in front of him, and didn’t move a muscle. 

Richard carefully removed the laptop from Gabriel’s lap, and closed it.

He didn’t really know what to say. He couldn’t imagine how Gabriel felt, to have sacrificed himself to stop the Apocalypse, to find the Apocalypse had been _averted_ … and then find out that Raphael was trying to fill Lucifer’s shoes.

“I’m going to make some pancakes,” Richard said gently.

Gabriel didn’t respond. Richard went to make pancakes. He took the laptop into the kitchen with him.

Halfway through mixing the batter, the laptop exploded.

Straightening from where he had ducked down behind the kitchen counter, Richard saw the remains of the laptop where he’d left it on the kitchen table. They were blackened and sizzling.

“Did you just – did you just _smite_ my laptop?” he called out, walking back into the lounge.

Gabriel was glaring, his expression full of wrath. The air felt heavy with static. Something primitive and terrified rose up in Richard’s hindbrain, telling him to _run_. Instead, he crossed the room to Gabriel, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

The archangel stared up at him with eyes full of agony, and no way to express it. Anyone human would have been finding release in sobs and tears by now, But Gabriel just… suffered.

Richard gripped his shoulder with a look of sympathy and compassion, and didn’t say anything.

After a moment Gabriel covered Richard’s hand with one of his own and gripped back.

“Wow,” he said after a while. “My brothers really suck, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Richard. “I know.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Gabriel has discovered tumblr, Richard is mildly embarrassed, and The Almighty Janitor TV trope is referenced._

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Chapter Eight **

Thanks to the Grace that Gabriel still had left, he was healing at a faster rate than an actual human would, but it was still a human healing process rather than a miraculous one. This meant that as the wound in Gabriel’s belly closed together and healed over, he was left with a thick, ropy scar in reminder. It hurt, too, a constant ache that turned to a sudden sharp pain if he moved the wrong way or was too energetic. Gabriel wasn’t used to pain, and its constant presence was draining. He was starting to understand why humans took injury so personally.  

Worse than the physical pain, though – and there was a lot of that – was the knowledge of what had been happening back home in his absence. The fact that the Winchesters had managed to trap Lucifer and Michael in the Cage was mind-boggling – the fact that Sam _had fought Lucifer for control of his body and won_ even more so. Gabriel certainly hadn’t seen _that_ coming. Castiel’s little promotion… well, that was interesting. Apparently Dad’s plans hadn’t included the Apocalypse after all, and Castiel had gotten a gold star for his efforts at preventing it. Gabriel wondered if that was why he’d ended up recuperating in another reality instead of dead in his own. It would have been nice if he’d been healed, as well, but he had to admit that he’d joined the conga line kind of late, so maybe that was why he hadn’t been healed.

The revelation that after everything that had happened, Raphael was trying to restart the Apocalypse… it was devastating. To have _died_ attempting to save the Earth, to find out that the world had been _saved_ , only to have what had once been one of Gabriel’s closest brothers trying to continue Lucifer’s work, felt like a stake through the heart. Worse than that, even. From what Gabriel had read on the _Supernatural_ Wiki Raphael had fallen into a fit of nihilistic, pseudo-Nietzschean  angst, and was taking it out on the Earth and its denizens. Gabriel had no idea what to think of that, or what could be done about it.

Not that it mattered much, anyway, considering that Gabriel was stuck in an alternate universe and only had less than half the Grace he should have. He couldn’t do anything about it even if he’d wanted to.

Whether he _did_ want to… that was a question even Gabriel himself didn’t know how to answer.

Instead of trying, he distracted himself with watching TV and pulling mild pranks on Richard, Misha, Jared and Jensen. Once Richard had bought a new laptop, Gabriel spent a lot of time distracting himself with the internet (after he’d promised not to explode or otherwise damage the new laptop).

It was during one of these internet-surfing sessions that Gabriel found something that made his eyes widen in delight.

“So, _this_ is an awesome picture,” Gabriel said gleefully, turning the laptop so that Richard could see the screen.

Richard clearly suppressed the urge to groan as he saw a [picture](http://fuckyeahrichardspeightjr.tumblr.com/post/936311038/earrings-and-eyeliner-we-like-it) of a teenage version of himself, with ridiculously puffed-up hair and wearing eyeliner and dangly earrings.

“You _would_ find that. It was for an acting gig, okay?” Richard told him.

“The eyeliner really emphasises your eyes,” said Gabriel, grinning. “Although I don’t think the fabulous earrings really match the checked shirt.”

“Where did you find this, anyway?” Richard wanted to know.

“The _fuck yeah Richard Speight Jr_ tumblr,” Gabriel said cheerfully. “That’s some devoted fans you have there.” He clicked on a tag, and scrolled down. “Oh look, and if you click the _!Partylikeit’s1989_ tag, you get… grumpy you, [in a giant decorative sombrero](http://fuckyeahrichardspeightjr.tumblr.com/post/930777095/why-so-sad-bb-guise-mexican-richard-is-about-to)."

Richard couldn’t help but snort at the photograph of a much younger version of himself wearing a sombrero and glaring mildly.

“How do they even find these?” he asked.

“Beats me,” Gabriel said cheerfully, “but I’m totally reblogging.”

“Wait, what? You have a tumblr?” Richard looked mildly alarmed. Gabriel smirked at him.

“Sure do. It’s called _Ask Gabriel_ ,” he responded. “You wouldn’t _believe_ some of the advice people keep asking me for.”

“I think this is the part where I quietly leave before I hear or see anything that scars me for life,” said Richard, and left Gabriel to himself.

Gabriel shrugged, and went back to tumblr-hopping.

* * *

“You want me to work as a janitor?” Gabriel asked incredulously.

“I’m pretty sure that TV Tropes page already exists,” said Misha.

Rolling his eyes at Misha, Richard shrugged apologetically.

“There aren’t that many jobs available for people who didn’t even go to school.”

“Yeah, but a _janitor?_ ”

“You worked as one before, for a trick,” Jared offered.

“That wasn’t me!” Gabriel exclaimed. “I had a double doing all the work! And mostly I cleaned the place with a finger snap anyway. You really think I know one end of a mop from another? _Archangel_. Believe it or not, we don’t have much experience in janitorial duties.”

“Are there any skills you _do_ have, which don’t need any kind of qualification?” Jensen asked seriously.

“How should I know?”

“Languages,” said Misha suddenly. “He could always take up tutoring people in other languages.”

“You think I have the patience for that?” Gabriel asked.

“You think I have the money to keep supporting you?” Richard countered. “The other guys have been chipping in, but housing you and feeding you costs money, Gabriel.”

Gabriel frowned, and considered Misha’s suggestion.  It wasn’t actually a bad idea. After all, Gabriel spoke every human language in existence with complete fluency. Although he had immediately put up an argument against it, Gabriel wasn’t actually opposed to the idea. It would give him something to do, at least, and give him a chance to meet some new people. Not that he didn’t like the _Supernatural_ actors, but it would be nice to deal with someone else, for a change.

“Fine,” Gabriel agreed. “I’ll try tutoring. But don’t blame me if it all blows up in my face.”

The others exchanged glances.

“Maybe he should only work with adults, not kids,” Jared suggested. Jensen nodded in agreement.

“Why not?” Gabriel demanded. “I’m great with kids. It’s all the candy.”

“Yeah, okay, but parents usually want to see your credentials,” Jensen pointed out.

“Whereas students generally go for the cheapest option available,” Misha said smoothly.

“Okay, so I’ll try tutoring students,” Gabriel sighed. He leered. “Maybe I’ll get some hot ones.”

The others rolled their eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Gabriel's Grace is slowly recovering, and Parisian croissants are the best._

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Chapter Nine **

Gabriel’s first  tutoring session went surprisingly well.

His first student, Rita, was kind of wary of the copious amounts of candy he brought with him and the off-colour jokes he made, but Gabriel could be surprisingly patient when he had to be (he _was_ an angel, after all; time meant nothing) and had a better grasp of classical Latin than anyone else alive, so once Rita got used to him, they got along just fine. 

“How many languages do you speak?” Rita asked, when she found out Gabriel was also tutoring people in Russian, Spanish, French, Italian, Japanese, ancient Greek, and in once case, Hindi.

Gabriel smirked. He loved it when people asked him that question.

“All of them.”

Rita rolled her eyes.

“I suppose you think that’s funny.”

“Only if you’re not missing the punchline, sweetheart.”

“Seriously, though: how do you know so many languages?” Rita wanted to know. Gabriel smiled beatifically. 

“Between you and me, I’m an archangel,” he said conspirationally, and waited for her reaction.

Rita gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” she muttered. “Like I care.”

Gabriel sniggered.

Gabriel got on reasonably well with most of his other students, although when Matthew opened the door to be met with a cheery “Hi, I’m Gabriel – your new tutor?” Gabriel was met with a wide-eyed shout of “ _Holy crap!_ ” from Matthew, who was, it turned out, a _Supernatural_ fan. In the end Matthew agreed to the tutoring, but he never quite stopped being nervous whenever Gabriel was around.

Although, that could have been the way Gabriel constantly played small pranks on him. Eh, whatever.

* * *

After a few months, Gabriel’s Grace had recovered to the point where Gabriel could use it without risking depleting it.

To celebrate his returning ability to do things, Gabriel turned Misha’s hair green. Misha being Misha, he only peered in a mirror, said “Nice,” and otherwise seemed completely unbothered by the change.

Gabriel realised that Richard was eyeballing him.

“What? It brings out his eyes.”

“I’m guessing your Grace is starting to return,” Richard said.

Gabriel nodded brightly.

“Yep! Once it’s above a certain level it starts increasing exponentially. At this rate, I should be back to normal by the end of the year. I’ve got to take it easy, but I can start using my Grace for little things again.”

“You’re completely incorrigible, aren’t you?” Richard looked amused.

“Helloooo, _Trickster_ ,” Gabriel pointed out. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Richard snorted. “Just don’t aim any of your pranks at me.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel drawled, smirking, deliberately making no promises. 

One of the upsides to having adequate levels of Grace once more was that Gabriel could start flying places again. He went to Paris and brought back some croissants which were still warm from baking. He left one at Richard’s, and then, for the first time, went to visit the others on-set.

When he arrived, _Supernatural_ was filming, and Misha and Jensen were getting up in each other’s face in uncanny mimicry of Castiel and Dean. It was weird to watch. Gabriel had gotten used to Misha’s sly grins, deadpan humour and easy laughter, and to see him wearing Castiel’s intense, kind of blank expression and hear him talking in Castiel’s lower, gravelly tones was an unpleasant shock. Jensen, too, who was relatively laid-back, was bristling with Winchesterian aggression, wearing Dean’s leather jacket and his hair spiked up instead of neatly combed as it usually was.

Gabriel felt a sudden, sharp pang of loss and longing as he watched them. He’d never really gotten to know Castiel, but the other angel had been full of determination and fierce integrity, holding on tightly to a broken faith that was truer than that of most of their brothers. Gabriel regretted, now, that he hadn’t chosen a side earlier, and tried to get to know Castiel better. It was stupid, but Gabriel missed his little brother, even though they’d never actually had any kind of relationship. Hell, he even missed those two yahoos of Castiel and their idiotic, stubborn resolve to do the right thing, too late and against all odds. They’d even managed it, somehow. Gabriel would have liked to congratulate them for that.

As Gabriel watched, the scene ended. Jensen turned, and caught sight of him. For a moment the actor looked like  he didn’t know whether to be pleased or alarmed, then he broke into a friendly smile and headed over.

“Hey, man. What are you doing here?” he greeted Gabriel.

Gabriel waved the bag of pastries at him.

“Feel like a croissant fresh from a Paris bakery?”

Jensen blinked, his eyebrows rising. 

“Sure,” he said. “So, your Grace is returning, huh?”

“Sure is,” Gabriel agreed, feeling happier at the thought, trying to banish the lingering feelings of loss and sorrow from a moment before. “Last time I saw him, I turned Misha’s hair green. Really brought out his eyes. Had to make sure it wore off before filming, though.”

Jensen laughed.

“I sense the plotting of frivolity and unholy deeds,” said Misha solemnly, joining them. “And the pleasing aroma of baked goods.”

“That,” Gabriel told him, “would be the fresh Parisian croissants I brought with me.”

“We should probably find Jared,” said Jensen. “He’ll be pissed if he doesn’t get one.”

“No problem,” said Gabriel, and snapped them to wherever Jared was. 

Jared turned out to be in his trailer, and he almost fell out of his chair as the three appeared.

“Jesus!” he gasped.

“Gabriel!” Jensen yelled. “Please don’t do that without warning us, okay?”

Gabriel just smirked. Misha was snickering.

“Did anyone else see that?” Jensen asked, looking concerned.

“Probably,” Gabriel shrugged, “I wasn’t trying to be subtle, or anything.”

“What’s going on?” Jared asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you guys, but why –”

“Croissants!” Gabriel chirped, brandishing the bag at him. He snapped his fingers, and strawberry jelly and a tub of butter from Richard’s fridge appeared on the nearest table, along with clean plates and a butter knife.

“Okay, considering it’s you, I guess that makes perfect sense,” Jared said, and grabbed the bag. He pulled out one of the croissants, and passed the bag to Jensen and Misha. Pretty soon the trailer was filled with the sound of contented munching. Gabriel snapped the strawberry jelly and butter back to where it belonged.

“You know, it’s weird seeing you two acting like Castiel and Dean,” Gabriel told Misha and Jensen after a moment. “Don’t get me wrong, you do it brilliantly, but as someone who’s known them, it’s a little creepy.” He pointed a finger at Misha. “Especially your impersonation of my little brother.”

Misha only shrugged, but Jensen made a face.

“I didn’t even think about that. Sorry.”

“Geez, don’t worry. Besides, keeping up with the TV show is the best way I’ve got to keep track of what Castiel and those lunkheads are up to.”

There was a momentary silence.

“You think you’ll ever see them again?” Jared asked eventually. Gabriel shrugged.

“Well, I plan to go home eventually, so, yeah, maybe. But I guess I’ll see them when I see them.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Sam and Dean are terribly confused._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil smirk* Congratulations to the people who worked out way back when that this chapter was eventually coming. Here it finally is! *glee*

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Chapter Ten **

At Balthazar’s shove, Sam and Dean went crashing through the window.  Instead of landing on broken glass and in the rain, however, they landed on a mattress.

“Cut!” someone yelled. Blinking in bewilderment, Dean glanced around to see that he and Sam were… on a TV show set?

“Real good solid fall,” commented what appeared to be a crew member. “Way to go.”

“Jared, Jensen!” called the guy who had yelled ‘cut.’ “Outstanding! That was just great.”

" _Supernatural_ ," announced another crew member. “Scene one echo, take one. Tail slate. Marker!”

Dean exchanged glances with Sam. Sam looked just as confused as he felt.

“So… no angels?” Sam ventured, after a minute.

There was some sort of argument going on between the crew and the director, but Dean ignored them.

“No angels, I think,” Dean confirmed.

“Should we be killing anybody?” Sam asked uncertainly.

“I don't think so,” Dean told him.

Sam picked up a piece of the broken window they’d come through. It wobbled at the movement.

The brothers stared at each other.

* * *

After being led off and covered in make-up, Dean was no closer to understanding what was happening, but Sam seemed to have a clue.

“Look, I think I know what this is,” said Sam.

“Okay. What?” Dean asked, bracing himself.

“It's a TV show,” Sam explained. 

“You think?” Dean asked dubiously.

“Yeah. I mean, here - wherever here is, this - this twilight zone Balthazar zapped us into. For whatever reason, our life is a TV show. “

“Why?” 

Sam looked frustrated.

“I don't know.” 

“No, seriously,” Dean said, as pissed off as he was confused. “ Why? Why would anybody want to watch our lives?” 

“Well,” Sam said hesitantly, “Apparently we’re… compelling? Look, I'm not saying it makes sense. I'm just saying, we - we landed in some dimension where you're Jensen Ackles, and I'm something called a Jared Padalecki." 

“So what, now you're Polish? Is any of this making any sense to you?”

The two of them walked outside. Dean relaxed as he saw the Impala.

“Oh, hey. Least my baby made it.” It was at that moment that a crew member began flinging  mud on the windshield. Dean started forward in protest.

“Hey. Hey! What–“ He stopped as he realised that there was not one, but three Impalas parked outside. “I feel sick,” Dean moaned. “I'm going to be sick. I want to go home. I feel like this whole place is bad-touching me.”

“Yeah, I know. Me too. So, what do you think? Cas?”

“He's our best shot, if he's still alive,” Dean agreed. “ _Dear Castiel, who art maybe running his ass away from heaven, we pray that you have your ears on._ So... Breaker breaker...”

“Dean!” Sam grabbed his shoulder. Dean followed his gaze to see Castiel walking towards them. They hurried to meet him.

“Cas?” Dean yelled, trying to get his attention. Castiel glanced over, blinking. “Cas! Hey, Cas! Oh, thank God,” Dean added, as he joined them. “What is all this, huh? What did Balthazar do to us?”

Castiel looked at him for a moment.

“To keep you out of Virgil's reach, he's cast you into an alternate reality, a universe similar to ours in most respects yet dramatically different in others.” 

“Like - like Bizarro Earth, right?” Dean asked, hoping to get his head around what was going on. "Except instead of having Bizarro Superman, we get this clown factory.”

Castiel gave them a piercing, thoughtful look.

“Cas?” Sam asked uneasily, when Castiel didn’t reply.

“You two actually think I’m Castiel,” said Castiel – in a voice that wasn’t his. Dean and Sam froze.

Dean swallowed hard.

“Hmm. This is interesting,” not-Castiel mused, eyeing them consideringly.

Dean forced a laugh, elbowing Sam, who was still gaping in appalled dismay. 

“Nah, we’re just messing with you,” Dean said quickly. “Later, dude.”

The two of them hurried away, aware of not-Cas watching them as they walked away.

“What the hell!” Dean hissed.

“I don’t know,” Sam hissed back. “I guess real Cas is still back home.”

As they walked past a nearby trailer, Sam noticed something.

“Hey, ‘J. Ackles,’” he pointed out, nudging Dean.

“That’s fake me!” Dean exclaimed.

“Yeah.”

Exchanging looks, the brothers entered the trailer.

There was a laptop computer not far from the door, and Sam picked it up.

“All right, here we go. Let's see who this guy is.” 

While Sam was googling Jensen Ackles,  Dean spotted a copy of something called _Supernatural Magazine_. There was a photo of what looked like him and Sam on the cover. “Oh, come on. Look at these male-modelling sons of bitches. Nice ‘blue steel’, Sam.” 

“Hey,” Sam rebuked him. “Apparently, it's our job. All right, uh, here goes.” He scrolled down the laptop screen. “Um...It says you're from Texas.” 

“Really?” Dean asked in surprise. 

“Yeah. And, uh...” he trailed off. “Oh. Says you were on a soap opera.” 

“What?”

In response, Sam brought up a video clip with a guy who looked like a ridiculous made-up version of Dean having a heartfelt conversation with, apparently, his rich lover who was dying of cancer. The dialogue was nauseating.

Dean slammed the laptop shut. Sam looked too disturbed to even tease him about it.

“Don't like this universe, Sammy,” Dean said tersely. “We need to get out of this universe.” 

“Yeah.” Sam shuddered slightly as he looked around the trailer. “No argument here. But I don't think our prayers are reaching Cas. Or the real Cas.” 

“Well, I agree,” said Dean. “ I think we are definitely out of, uh, soul-phone range. But...” 

“What?” Sam wanted to know. 

“If we can reverse Balthazar's spell... I watched every move.” Dean grabbed a notepad and sketched out the sigil that Balthazar had used. “We just, uh, get the ingredients, right, get back to that same window, and... there's no place like home,” said Dean, hoping he was right, and that it was that simple.

Hopefully there weren’t any other surprises in store for them. But come on, what were the chances that this universe held anything more surprising than what they'd seen so far?


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Gabriel becomes aware of what's going on._

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Chapter Eleven **

Gabriel had been napping on the couch when something flared bright against his senses, bringing him instantly awake. It barely took Gabriel an instant to realise that what he was feeling? Was _magic_.

Eyes wide, Gabriel sat up straight, stretching out his senses. This universe had no native magic, which meant that wherever this magic had come from, it was from outside this reality.

With a curse, Gabriel tried to pinpoint the source of the magic. It was much easier than it should have been. Back home, this sort of magic would have been obscured by all the other magic in the area, but with no other magic going on, the trail was extraordinarily clear. Gabriel snapped up a note to leave for Richard, telling him what was going on, and spread his wings and left to trace the magic to its location.

He was less surprised than he should have been to find himself standing on the set of _Supernatural_.

_ Where else would magic be likely to turn up? _

Gabriel glanced around. There was nothing obviously out of place, and the magic had already dispersed, leaving Gabriel without a clue. Shrugging to himself, Gabriel decided to take a walk, and see if he noticed anything unusual.

Gabriel had barely left the set when he heard a shout.

“Gabriel!”

He turned to see Misha in full Castiel getup – that would never not be weird – approaching.

“Hey, Misha,” he greeted his friend. Misha was frowning pensively. “What’s up?”

Misha was silent for a few moments.

“I think Jared and Jensen have been replaced by Sam and Dean,” he said at last. Gabriel stilled, and thought that through.

“Well,” he said after a minute, “that would explain the flare of magic I felt a little while ago.”

“You should probably see our script,” Misha said seriously. “I think it explains what’s going on.”

“Lead the way,” said Gabriel, and snapped up a lollipop as he gestured for Misha to precede him. “Your trailer?”

“Might as well,” Misha agreed.

The two of them walked to Misha’s trailer, where Gabriel sat down and read through the script Misha handed him.

According to the script, Sam and Dean had been given a key that they needed to protect from  Raphael. One of Raphael’s goon had arrived just after Balthazar have Sam the key, so Balthazar had shoved the Winchesters into another reality, one without angels or the supernatural. The brothers had landed on the _Supernatural_ TV set, much to their confusion. 

“I see what you mean,” Gabriel muttered. “I’m going to bring Richard in on this.” He snapped his fingers, and with a stagger, Richard was suddenly with them inside Misha’s trailer.

“What the hell? Gabriel!”

“We’ve got a problem,” Gabriel told him, and explained the situation briefly, before going back to the script. Halfway through his eyes widened in alarm as he felt another flare of magic, similar to the one he’d felt earlier, and then, because he was looking for it, another angel’s Grace.

“Shit,” said Gabriel, and flipped forward through the script as quickly as possible. Sure enough, about halfway through the script was a scene where one of Raphael’s agents, Virgil, followed Sam and Dean through into the alternate world.

This one. The one Gabriel was currently living in.

Gabriel remembered Virgil; he was a grim, uncompromising sort, and one of the ones who had never understood why their Father had valued humans. If anyone accidentally got in his way while he was looking for Sam and Dean….

“Shit,” he said again. “Guys? One of Raphael’s angels. He’s _here_.” 

“Where?” Richard asked, his eyes widening with alarm. Gabriel focused for a minute, and swore. 

“On set! So are Dean and Sam!”

Before either Misha or Richard could protest, Gabriel snapped his fingers and transported them all.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean were at a loss. They’d tried getting together all the ingredients for the ritual that would take them home, but there was a problem. As with a lot of ritual ingredients, some of them were quite esoteric. Unfortunately, it hadn’t occurred to Sam and Dean that since they were on a TV show, all of the ingredients on set were likely to be fake. Dean was kicking himself for not thinking of it earlier, while Sam looked chagrined.

All of a sudden Sam’s eyes widened.

“Uh, Dean? Dean!”

Dean turned to see that the angel that had come after them right before Balthazar had shoved them into Bizarro World – whatshisface, Virgil or something –  was standing only feet away from them.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean said as the angel lunged.

There was a brilliant flare of light, hot and blinding.

Dean clapped his hands over his eyes, hearing a thin, high scream.

The light died away.

When the spots finally stopped dancing in front of Dean’s eyes, there were three figures standing behind Virgil, who was clearly dead, wing shadows burned into the ground on either side of him.

One figure was not-Cas, frowning down at the sprawled angel’s body.

The other two – Dean gaped – looked just like Gabriel.

Amber eyes tilted up to look at Dean and Sam.

“Hey, boys.” The grin was cocky. “It’s been a while.”

The second Gabriel rolled his eyes and looked mildly annoyed.

“You know, I’d appreciate a warning before being apparated,” he complained.

“What, you didn’t want to know why Jared and Jensen got replaced by the Hardy Boys here?” the first one retorted nonchalantly.

“ _Gabriel?_ ” Sam asked incredulously.

“In the flesh, Sam.” Gabriel gave a jaunty little wave. “How’d you get here? I’ve been stranded for months.”

“You bastard!” Dean exploded.

“Aaaaaaand that’s probably my cue to take this somewhere else,” Gabriel mused. “Misha, we’ll be using your trailer. Later, Richard.” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly Dean and Sam were somewhere else entirely.  
 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Sam is earnest, Gabriel is tired, Dean is belligerent, and Misha has excellent timing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If all goes as planned, there is one more chapter to go, which I am currently working on. No idea when it will be up.

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Chapter Twelve **

Of all the things Gabriel had ever expected to happen, Dean and Sam Winchester replacing Jared and Jensen was nowhere on the top of the list. As far as he could tell, rather than enacting a straight swap, Balthazar had set it up so that Dean and Sam were possessing Jared and Jensen. They were probably aware of it, too. Gabriel was sorry that there wasn’t anything he could do, short of working out a way to fling the Winchesters back where they belonged.

“It’s good to see you too, Dean,” Gabriel said brightly, only half-mocking. “Tell me, how’s the family going? Raphael and Castiel duking it out like in the scripts? Or are the screenwriters less prescient than I suspect?”

Dean spluttered with fury, so Gabriel turned to Sam.

“And Sam!” he grinned cheerfully. “Congratulations on beating Lucifer! I’d like to say I knew you could do it, but honestly, I thought the odds were pretty slim. Still, you did it, so kudos to you!”

“How- how are you _here?_ ” Sam asked, looking at a loss. Gabriel shrugged.

“Apparently, this is where good archangels go when they die. I turned up a few months back with a giant hole in my stomach where Lucifer shanked me, bleeding all over the kitchen of the actor who plays me on the show. Since then I’ve been recovering, hanging out with our doppelgangers. You know. Doing _human_ things.” His nose wrinkled on the word ‘human,’ because fond though he’d become of Misha, Jared, Jensen and Richard, it had been a relief once he was able to go back to snapping things up and flying.

“You bastard!” Dean exclaimed a second time, recovering his ability to speak coherently. “You knew what was going on? Why the hell didn’t you come help! The world might end because you’re not there!”

Gabriel’s eyes flashed, and he grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it up to reveal the ugly, livid scarring across his stomach that was barely healed.

“I’m still recovering from being _stabbed to death,_ you complete asshat,” Gabriel said with emphasis. “And screw you. Dying for the cause once should be _more_ than enough. So find some other sacrificial victim this time. I’m through.”

Dean’s jaw clenched, but Sam sighed.

“You know, he kind of has a point.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

Gabriel turned away, but Dean was too stubborn to know a losing battle when he saw one.

“Listen, you –”

“Candy apples,” Misha announced, walking in and pushing one into Gabriel’s hands. Gabriel wondered at Misha’s freakish ability to be in the right place at the right time.

He also wondered why on Earth the man had a bouquet of candy apples, and where he could possibly have bought them in the last five minutes.

“You know I’m only going to eat the candy and get rid of the apple, right?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m capable of deductive logic, yes,” Misha answered, and turned to Sam and Dean. “Want one?”

The Winchesters stared.

Misha shrugged, and but into a candy apple. This, Gabriel thought, was exactly why he liked him. No one pushed people off-balance like Misha.

Dean broke the silence.

“What the hell?”

Misha only shrugged a second time. Gabriel bit into his own candy apple.

“Gabriel, please,” said Sam earnestly. “Look, I know you’ve given more than enough. Trust me, Dean and I know the feeling.” Gabriel listened to him reluctantly. “But Cas is out of his depth right now. If you don’t help, the world might end.”

“Gee, why does this feel familiar?” Gabriel snarked acerbically, to hide the way he felt. He knew Sam was right, and if he didn’t intervene, then probably both Castiel and the world he came from were screwed.

“You son of a–” Dean began.

“Shut your cakehole, Winchester,” Gabriel said sharply. “Look, even if I agreed to help, how much good do you think I can do like this? My Grace is only half what it should be. You think I’m a match for Raphael, the way I am right now? Hells no.”

“Anything you can do is better than nothing,” Sam replied, elbowing his brother hard before Dean could say something antagonistic. “Cas is basically doing it all on his own. He could really use a hand, even if you can’t do much else.”

Gabriel hesitated, remembering how he’d wished he’d decided to help against the Apocalypse earlier, so that he could have gotten to know Castiel properly. Wasn’t this basically the same situation all over again? Besides, he’d already died once, hadn’t he? If it happened a second time… well, he already knew what that was like. And at least he’d have one less regret to take with him.

Dean, oblivious to Gabriel’s softening attitude, made a scoffing noise.

“Come on Sam, what the hell makes you think he gives a shit about Cas? He’s just like all those other assholes.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“That’s it,” he snapped, interrupting the glare Sam was sending Dean. “I’ve had it with you, Deano. _Shut up._ ”

He snapped his fingers, and abruptly Dean’s voice was gone. Dean tried to speak, and sent Gabriel a murderous look when the attempt failed.

Ignoring him, Gabriel turned back to Sam.

“I’m not sure Castiel would even want my help, Sam,” he said honestly. “We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

“I’m pretty sure he would,” Sam responded soberly. “He was pretty cut up about it when we told him how you died. I know you don’t want to get involved in another fight, but Cas? He needs you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel closed his eyes, and the sigh he gave felt like it went down to his bones.

“If I do this, I damn well expect you two to stop treating me like some kind of villain, you hear me? I’m not going to keep giving everything just to have it thrown back in my face.” He opened his eyes and glared at Dean. “That means you, kiddo.”

Dean glared back, but gave a grudging nod. Gabriel snapped his fingers to give Dean back his voice.

“You’re seriously going to help?” Dean asked, touching his throat gingerly. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Were you not listening just now? Yes. _Si. Ita est_. I’m helping. Dad knows I’m crazy to do it, but yeah. Don’t make me change my mind.”

“Thank you, Gabriel. Really,” Sam said gratefully.

“Yeah, yeah.” Gabriel waved away Sam’s gratitude, even though it felt nice to be thanked. “So, now we’ve sorted that out, how exactly did you get here in the first place? You said Balthazar sent you here and I flipped through Misha’s script, but–”

“He did some kind of ritual,” Sam broke in to explain. “Dean and I looked it up, and we remember the sigils so we should be able to replicate it, but the ingredients are all hard to get.”

“And what am I, again?” Gabriel asked rhetorically. “Make a list, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really?” Sam asked hopefully. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Really, really, Sam.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Gabriel and the Winchester return home, and this story ends._

** Archangel ** ** in Exile **

** Chapter Thirteen **

“Are we really doing this?” Richard asked.

“An actual ritual to send people to another world? It should be fun,” said Misha. “Besides, think of everyone’s faces when they realise Gabriel’s actually Gabriel.”

“Yeah, we’re doing this,” Gabriel confirmed. “Which reminds me. I want to thank you guys for everything you’ve done for me over the past few months. I couldn’t have gotten by without you.”

“Well, you know,” Richard smiled. “Who could pass up the chance to have an archangel staying at their place and making a nuisance of themselves?”

“About that,” said Gabriel. “I’m sorry about writing my name in toothpaste on the mirror. And the music at three am. And exploding your laptop. And all the other things.”

Gabriel heard Dean snicker.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I didn’t know what I was signing up for,” Richard sighed, but he was still smiling. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Right back at you.” Gabriel turned to the Winchesters, and before they could dodge tapped a finger to each of their foreheads, suppressing the possession for a minute or so to bring Jared and Jensen to the forefront.

“Holy crap!” Jared yelped, staggering slightly, while Jensen blinked rapidly. Gabriel steadied them both. “You couldn’t have done that earlier?”

“Sorry,” said Gabriel. “They’ll be gone soon, though. Listen, you guys heard everything we’ve been discussing, right?”

“Yeah,” said Jensen. “So, you’re going home?”

“If it all works out like it’s supposed to, then I guess.” Gabriel looked them both in the eye with some affection. “Thanks, you two.”

Arms were gripped and backs slapped in farewell, before Dean and Sam slid back into control.

“Damn that was unpleasant,” Dean griped. Gabriel just turned back to Misha.

“I’m not sorry I filled your entire shower cubicle with whipped cream that one time,” he said.

“I’m not sorry I put glitter glue in your hair while you were napping,” responded Misha, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s been interesting.”

“Chinese curse interesting, but I suppose so,” said Gabriel. “I’ll see if I can come back and visit you guys some time, but if I can’t… well, have a nice life. Okay. Let’s do this.”

The five of them walked back onto the set, several people doing double-takes as they spotted Gabriel and Richard walking together, looking practically identical. Misha, Sam and Dean walked behind them, carrying what was needed for the ritual. Virgil’s body was still where they had left it, several security people standing guard, and Gabriel guessed that it wouldn’t be long before the cops showed up.

The fake window had been replaced since Sam and Dean had originally come through, and Gabriel made a beeline for it.

“Richard? What are you doing here? Who’s this?” asked Bob Singer, looking beyond bewildered. “What’s going on here? Do you know what happened earlier?”

“It’s a long story,” said Richard, as Gabriel strode past him.

“But basically, I’m Gabriel,” Gabriel called over his shoulder, “and Sam and Dean are temporarily possessing Jared and Jensen. I’m about to make sure we all get home. Anyone who tries to interfere gets turned into a llama. No promises to turn them back before I leave.”

“He’s not kidding,” Misha added helpfully.

Gabriel painted the sigil that Dean had sketched out for him onto the fake glass, and muttered under his breath in Enochian, feeling the spell start to work. He straightened up.

“Okay, you muttonheads, we all link hands and on a count of three, we throw ourselves at the sigil,” he called to Sam and Dean.

“Do we have to hold hands?” Dean muttered.

“Yes.” Gabriel grabbed his hand before he could protest, then took Sam’s. “Richard, Misha, clean up for me afterwards, will you? It’s been a blast knowing you. One, two – three!”

He threw himself at the window at the same moment as Dean and Sam. There was a moment of disorientation as Gabriel felt all three of them whipping past countless worlds for the barest instant, a moment barely perceptible to human senses, before they plunged back into the correct world and hit the ground hard.

Gabriel was _home._

The rush of magic around him was dizzying after months in the other, empty world, and the moment Gabriel’s knees hit the pavement he felt his Grace explode to its full capacity, instantly rejuvenated now he was back where he belonged.

“ _What?_ ” Gabriel heard a feminine voice say incredulously, and looked up with a grin on his lips to meet the eyes of the waiting archangel.

“Hello, Raphael. I’d ask how it’s hanging, but, you know.”

“Raphael?” Dean said, and Gabriel _knew_ he was about to say something inflammatory. “Nice meatsuit. Dude looks like a lady.”

Yep, definitely inflammatory. 

Raphael reached out with her Grace and tried to hurt the Winchesters, but Gabriel extended his own Grace to protect them.

“Is this what you’re after?” Gabriel asked, and tossed her the key Balthazar had given Sam.

“The key,” Raphael said, catching it.

“And that will open you a locker at the Albany bus station,” interrupted a British voice, and Gabriel glanced around to see a new angel had joined them – Balthazar.

“Really.” Raphael sounded deeply skeptical.

“You see,” Balthazar explained, “I needed a modest decoy to make it more convincing.”

“Give me the weapons,” Raphael ordered. 

“Sorry, darling. They're gone.”

“ _What?_ ” Raphael thundered. 

“I said, too bloody late,” Balthazar reiterated forcefully. “You see, they were so well-hidden that I needed time to find them. So, I volunteered these two marmosets for a game of fetch with Virgil. You two were such an adequate stick. Thank you. Thank you, boys.”

“And what did Castiel think of all this?” Gabriel demanded. “You’re telling me he was down with this plan?”

“Gabriel?” asked a disbelieving voice. Gabriel turned to see Castiel standing behind them all, staring as incredulously as Raphael had. Gabriel grinned at him.

“Hey, bro. Your two sidekicks said you could use a little help with the whole civil war thing. Congratulations on the promotion. Dad approved of the whole anti-Apocalypse gig, huh?” He turned his head to look back at Raphael, who was glaring murderously. “I think this changes things, don’t you, Raphael? Maybe Castiel wasn’t exactly a match for you – but with me on his side?” Gabriel’s grin was more Trickster than archangel, sharp and dark. “I think that makes a difference, don’t you?”

“This isn’t over,” Raphael said ominously. Gabriel clapped.

“And there’s a tick for number three on the list of most clichéd stand-off statements ever. Go on, then. Keep trying to destroy the world, if that’s really what you want to do. But you know what? We stopped Lucifer, Raphael. We stopped Michael. And we can stop you, too.”

With a wordless snarl of frustration Raphael vanished, presumably to reconsider her position. Gabriel turned back to Castiel.

“So. Castiel. Or should I say, ‘Cas?’ That seems to be what all the cool kids are calling you, these days.”

“Castiel is fine,” Castiel said, a little suspiciously. “Where have you been? I thought you were dead.”

“Me? Dead? Well, maybe for a little while,” Gabriel conceded. “Apparently getting killed defending this hunk of rock earned me brownie points with Dad, because I’ve been recuperating in an alternate universe since Lucifer stabbed me. But let’s talk about you.” He crossed his arms and looked stern. “Making deals with demons, Castiel? Really? Risking your favourite humans’ lives as a diversion? Trust me, if I hadn’t been there, they both would have been dead by now. And if that universe has a Heaven, it’s not one us angels can find. The Winchesters would have been lost to you forever.”

Sam looked shocked and hurt, but Dean just set his jaw and stared at Castiel, his expression stony and uncommunicative.

Castiel flinched.

“I didn’t intend –”

“You know, bro, the humans have a saying about intentions,” Gabriel interrupted ruthlessly. “Specifically, that good intentions pave the way to Hell. It’s no use having good _intentions_ if your _methods_ are unethical.”

“The ends justify the means,” said Castiel, but he sounded uncertain. Balthazar just stood and watched.

“Really, Cas?” Dean said harshly. “That’s how you choose to defend yourself? By using the same kind of justifications the angels were using during the Apocalypse?”

“ ‘ _We have seen the enemy and he is us’_ ,” Gabriel murmured, as Castiel winced visibly. “Tell you what. Let me make an educated guess. You were outnumbered and outgunned, with no way to win the war, and no way you could afford to lose it. Either way, you were screwed. Then there was the fact that you were going to lose Dean’s respect whatever path you chose. So you went for the lesser of two evils. That sound about right?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed, which Gabriel took as confirmation.

“How do you know all this?”

“Because, Castiel, the universe you sent Dean and Sam to, the one where I was recovering from Lucifer’s idea of a family reunion? Our lives are a TV show there. I ended up shacked up with the actor who plays me, and hanging out with the actors who play you guys, and you wouldn’t _believe_ what they were willing to tell me about your motivations.” 

Castiel’s eyes lowered at that.

“Charming as all this is,” Balthazar broke in, “I take it that you intend to support Castiel against Raphael?”

“Sure am. You think I want to have died for nothing? I admit I don’t exactly want to do the whole ‘save the world gig’ a second time, especially not after how things worked out for me last time, but what can I say, I’m loyal. It’s one of my good points. And frankly, it really gets my goat that Raphael’s trying to undo our efforts to keep this place going.”

Gabriel saw the way that Castiel sagged a little as though a weight had just been removed from his shoulders, and the bloom of tired hope in his eyes. In response Gabriel slung a friendly arm around Castiel’s stiff shoulders.

“Come on, little brother. Let’s go work out a better way to take down Raphael than consorting with demons, hmm?” Gabriel’s smile was kind.

Castiel seemed to draw strength from it, and he straightened minutely. 

“Yes. Of course. Gabriel – thank you,” he added with sincerity, his words quiet but genuine.

“Pfft, don’t mention it,” Gabriel replied, and glanced at the Winchesters. “Be seeing you, boys.”

“Keep us in the loop this time!” Dean yelled out, right before Gabriel raised his hand, ready to snap himself and the other angels away. “And no more goddamn using us as pawns, Cas!”

Castiel nodded gravely, his eyes sad, and Gabriel snapped his fingers, taking himself and Castiel and Balthazar away to plan what to do next.

There were tough times ahead, Gabriel knew. But he also knew that whatever price he might pay, it was worth it. As he’d said on that DVD he’d left for Sam and Dean… this was him, standing up. 

Gabriel snickered at the reminder of how the DVD had ended, and waved Castiel and Balthazar to sit down so they could discuss what to do next.

 

END  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this fic, about two years ago, I had just seen the episode _The French Mistake._ It was one of the few season 6 episodes I watched - season 6 broke my heart - mostly because of all the hype around it. But I found myself disappointed; the 'actors' characters were caricatures more than anything, and just weren't as awesome as the real actors are. I went looking for awesome SupernaturalSupernatural RPF fic that could soothe this feeling of disappointment, but there was nothing that met the conditions I was looking for (like awesome Misha).
> 
> At about this time I also read [Reflections of Heaven and Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/186235) and [A Graceful Combination](http://candylovinangel.livejournal.com/1476.html), both of which are about Gabriel ending up in RPF verses after his death. It gave me a fantastic idea: why not combine awesome RPF, Gabriel, and the episode _The French Mistake_ into one single fic? Thus, 'Archangel in Exile.'
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who's read this, as well as the people who recced it. If you enjoyed this story, then please, leave a comment and let me know! I had fun writing it.
> 
> Also, I've listed this as the first in a series in case I write an epilogue later, but no promises. (ETA: if there's any ideas you'd like to see in the epilogue, let me know! I need ideas.)


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